Where the Heart Lies
by Lalinka
Summary: AU. Set in the medieval age. Sam is rescued from Barbarians, that enslaved him by a handsome knight. But according to the law, he belongs to the commander of the legion. While they're waiting for the commander's arrival, Sam starts falling for his handsome saviour. Can he win his soldier's heart or is he going to lose him forever? Unrelated Wincest


**-A/N: This is an AU story that has nothing to do with the show, except that I borrowed three characters: Sam, Dean and Castiel. Hopefully, you'll enjoy the story nonetheless, because I'm quite proud of it. Enjoy!-**

**Prologue:**It's set in the medieval age, where being a knight and having an honour means everything. Castiel is a commander of a legion set out to fight barbarians that plunder the kingdom. Dean is his second in command, closest friend and the only person he'd trust with his life. Dean loves Castiel as his brother and he'd give up his life for him in a heartbeat. They have just found out about a barbarian village and decided to take care of it. After three days of fighting, all the barbarians are successfully gone (either killed or run away). Dean and his comrades are searching the houses for prey. Instead of food and gold, Dean finds a prison full of dead bodies of young girls and boys. And then one of them moves...

-xXx-

He heard noises and that was what woke him up. He opened his eyes and blinked. He felt so weak... He couldn't remember the last time he ate properly. The men that kidnapped them from their home fed them, but only to keep them alive. And since they started fighting the king's legions, they stopped giving them food at all. Many of them died due to the starvation. Jo, his sister, died in his arms, begging him to survive this, to set himself free and finally live again...

Sam knew that under any other circumstances, he'd be crying by now, but he just didn't have any water in him to use on the tears. Why wasn't he dead anyway? When he'd closed his eyes for the last time, he didn't really expect ever waking up again. Maybe that was it? Maybe he _did_ die and this was the other side?

He saw a silhouette standing in the light that was coming from where he remembered was the door. He couldn't make out its face, his eyes were too tired and the light was too blinding. Sam figured that it was an angel of the other side coming for him. It even had a golden halo above its head. The silhouette just stood there for a moment and then turned around to leave. But he couldn't let it leave. He wanted it to take him away, even if away meant death. Especially so. He gathered all the strength, all the fight he still had within him. It wasn't much. It was enough to move his hand towards the shadow and open his mouth, though. No sound ever came out, more like a gasp for breath, but it was enough to draw the shadow's attention.

It was by his side almost immediately; pulling him out of the pile of bodies he was lying in, and examining him. From the close distance, Sam was able to make out that it was a male, not a shadow. He was also too solid for an unearthly being. He smelled after sweat, blood and fire, but for some reason it wasn't a bad smell. There was something else, something unique and Sam found it comforting.

"Hey," he heard a voice coming from the man's mouth, but it sounded like heavenly song to Sam. "Are you with me, boy?"

The man above him looked into his eyes and that was when Sam was certain, he was in the presence of an angel. No human had eyes this green. The halo he'd seen was in fact only a crown of short, golden hair, but the face he was looking into was impossibly beautiful. Sam wished he could stay like this forever; in the arms of the most beautiful angel the world could ever imagine.

He opened his mouth to say something. He wanted to talk to the creature. He wanted to ask him to stay and he wanted to know if this really was the end. But his throat was too dry and he just ended up opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

"Easy, boy," the man smiled. "Here's some water," he pressed a pouch against Sam's mouth and Sam felt the cold liquid run down his throat. It was so sweet and refreshing, that he forgot to swallow it down and started choking. The pouch was immediately gone and when he reached out for it, the man pushed him back down.

"Take it easy. One sip after another, okay?"

And with that, the pouch returned, but this time Sam swallowed properly, earning a praising hum from the man above him.

When he finished drinking and his throat didn't burn anymore, he opened his mouth once more, hoping his voice would come out this time.

"Am I dead?" Sam could have sworn, that what came out wasn't _his_ voice, but he wrote that off to the months of not using it, if he didn't count the rare moments of silent whispers between him and his sister.

"No," the man said, his voice carrying a strange note of sadness. Sam looked up to see the green eyes filled with sympathy. But if he wasn't dead, then...

"Who are you?"

"My name is Dean, I'm from the king's legion," the man answered.

"Dean..." Sam repeated dreamily. So this wonderful being was a man. No angel or spirit, just a soldier. Sam reached out his hand and touched the man's cheek to make himself believe, that what stood in front of him, was made of flesh and bones, just like he himself. "Thank you..."

It wasn't until he saw his own hand shiver, that he realized he was cold. Freezing, even. Dean apparently noticed that as well, because he pulled a coat off his shoulders and wrapped Sam in it. He felt Dean's arms gathering him up and carrying him, like he was nothing but a feather. Sam instinctively snuggled closer to the warmth that Dean's body was providing.

"I'll get you out of here. You'll live, I promise," he whispered into Sam's ear, but Sam wasn't really listening. He just let Dean's warmth, scent and the rhythm of his walking put him to sleep.

-xXx-

When Sam opened his eyes again, he had no idea, where he was. He was wrapped in furs on a bed-a bed?! He hadn't slept in a bed since the barbarians took him- the barbarians! If they caught him lying in a bed... Sam quickly got up to his feet, but he had to sit back down, when his vision turned black. And then his stomach growled. Yeah, it's been a while since he had something to eat.

That was when he realized, that he wasn't behind the bars with the others. He was in a tent, instead of the prison he'd been occupying for months now. He looked around and then he noticed the form of a sleeping man on the ground. He had nothing to make his sleep a little more comfortable but his arm under his head. Sam supposed it was because he took up the bed. He got scared all of the sudden. Is the man going to be angry, when he wakes up?

He dared to look closer. He would not forget that face as long as he would live. And now, asleep, it seemed even softer than he'd remembered from the previous night. Peaceful. Sam still wasn't entirely convinced the man, sleeping in this tent, wasn't an angel.

He walked out of the tent and froze. The tent he'd had the privilege of spending this night in was in the very centre of a small camp, build probably by the king's legion. There were fireplaces and pieces of armour everywhere. And of course, soldiers. Many of them were injured. Some were sitting near the fireplaces and eating and all of them were drinking.

The camp was small; really just a dozen or two of tents and it was settled on the top of a hill. Sam took a few steps, unnoticed by anyone to take a look down the valley. It was beautiful. Sam hadn't had a proper view of nature for far too long. There were also some massive funeral pyres. The columns of smoke were rising towards the sky, guiding the spirits of the dead, where they belonged. To Heaven. Somewhere there was Jo and Sam figured this was the most honourable funeral he could have wished for her.

"I did it, little sister," he said to no one; unable to keep one single tear from falling down his cheek. "I survived. I'm going to live for the both of us. I love you, Jo."

"Who's Jo?" said a voice behind him and Sam jumped.

When he turned around, he saw the man that was sleeping on the floor of his own tent just moments ago. Sam's throat was suddenly too tight to speak, so he just looked down. He wasn't used to kind treatment from strangers and he was scared of what was to come.

"Don't worry, boy. You're safe here. You can talk to me."

Sam dared to look up again to see the other man smiling at him. That encouraged him.

"My sister," he said quietly.

"Oh," said the man, whose name Sam remembered was Dean. "And where is she now?"

Sam just nodded towards the pyres.

"Please, forgive me," Dean bit his bottom lip. "I should have known better than to ask such questions."

Sam opened his mouth to argue, but then he fell down to the ground, hugging his stomach that was twisting in excruciating pain.

"Oh my God," he heard Dean say in a frightened tone and then he felt his strong arms haul him up again, like he was nothing.

Dean laid him down on the bed made of furs and went out again to yell some orders at someone, then returned with a worried expression on his beautiful features.

"Please, pardon my carelessness; I forgot how hungry you must be."

Sam's stomach calmed down enough for Sam to be able to think straight again.

"You don't have to ask me to pardon you, Dean," he smiled and hoped he wasn't being too daring.

Dean's eyes widened, but before he had a chance to say anything, some other man walked into the tent with two loafs of bread, two jugs of water and a piece of roasted meat. The smell attacked Sam's nostrils and his stomach growled once more. The man put all the things down in front of Dean, who didn't seem to even notice him, bowed slightly and walked out.

Sam couldn't tear his eyes off the food on the floor in front of Dean.

"You seem to remember my name," said Dean, while he was cutting the meat with his knife and putting the pieces on a plate. "But I never had the pleasure of learning yours."

"It's Samuel," Sam said, surprised that when he opened his mouth, his saliva didn't flow out in one huge stream.

"Well, Samuel," Dean stood up, took one loaf and one jug with the plate and put it in front of Sam. "Promise me, that you'll eat slowly and in small bits and this is all yours."

Sam nodded quickly and threw himself at the meat. He remembered his promise until the first bit of meat touched his tongue, then he just couldn't hold himself back anymore. When he almost choked on a huge bite of bread, he felt a strong hand pushing him back, away from the food. He tried to fight, but he had no chance against Dean.

"I said _slowly_," Dean laughed softly and put the jug in Sam's hands. "Here, drink."

So Sam did, his eyes never leaving Dean's, which were sparkling with amusement. The water helped him to down the bread.

"I'm not doing this to toy with you. Your stomach isn't used to food anymore; it could kill you if you ate too fast."

With that, he withdrew the arm that was keeping Sam away from the food and sat back. Sam felt a little like a child being scolded, but he had to admit the older man had a point, so when he grabbed another piece of meat, he actually took his time carefully chewing and swallowing it. It earned him an approving smile from Dean, who started eating his own bread. That was when Sam noticed, that all of the meat was on his plate.

"Oh God," Sam hurriedly pushed the floor towards Dean. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize I was eating your breakfast. Forgive me, Sir," he quickly lowered his gaze.

When he was with the barbarians, the rules were simple. He was a slave. He would do whatever they told him to without asking why and if he ever so much as _looked_ at their meat, they would probably whip him and then left him all day tied to a cross to warn anyone, who might think of being as daring as he was. That was why he was surprised, when instead of an angry response and maybe a kick to the ribs, he felt Dean's hand gently lift his chin and when he looked up, his smile was a little sad.

"Sir? What happened to Dean?" He smoothed the hair out of his forehead. "And it's fine, I don't usually breakfast meat, I had it brought for you, so go ahead, eat it," he added as he pulled his hand away.

Sam stared at him in awe. Someone up there in Heaven must be really watching out for him, because this man in front of him was one in a million.

"Are you sure you aren't an angel?" he asked, before he could stop himself. He felt his cheeks burn immediately, but was pleased to see, that blush had crept up Dean's cheeks as well.

"I'm afraid not," he lowered his gaze shyly. That was something Sam wouldn't expect from a man like him. "Is that too disappointing, Sam? Can I call you that? Samuel just sounds so formal," he looked up at him again.

Without thinking, Sam put one of his greasy fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Something changed in the way Dean looked at him. His usually so bright green eyes somehow darkened and his gaze was fixed on Sam's mouth. Sam put two and two together and he found himself intrigued by the idea. Ever so slowly, he pulled the digit out of his mouth and smiled at Dean.

"You can call me anything you want," he said in a low voice, which he hoped was appealing.

He actually didn't have much experience with this. Back home, he was a good boy. He went to their scholars to study and he was barely interested in girls or boys in his home village. He wasn't even sure, if anyone would find _him_ interesting. That's why, when Dean's arm reached out to caress his cheek, his heart started beating rapidly fast. This man, this soldier that was touching him like he was made of delicate porcelain, had surely had his way with so many others before and Sam was feeling nervous and self-conscious.

But before anything could happen, a man that walked into the tent disrupted the moment.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said with an emotionless expression. "I have something important to discuss with you, Dean. In private," he nodded towards Sam.

Dean sighed and nodded.

"There's a stream in the back of our camp, you can wash there," he said towards Sam, who took the hint and walked out. It hurt him a little for some reason, that Dean didn't acknowledge anyhow the moment of intimacy they had just shared. Or maybe Sam was imagining things. God knows, what was going on in Dean's head.

He washed and dried off properly with the bottom of the tunic they must have given him, while he was still out of it and slowly walked back. He wasn't sure if he was gone long enough for the men to finish their business. When he finally reached Dean's tent, he stopped because he heard voice of the man from before. He must have been just leaving, because he was standing in the opening, facing the inside.

"And about the boy you're having here," he heard the man say. "Don't get too close to him. For your both sakes. Castiel will be back in two days. You know what that means," his voice sounded honestly concerned. Sam didn't really understand what the statement meant, but he knew they were talking about him and he didn't like it.

"Thanks for your good advice, Gordon" Dean said with a voice full of sarcasm. "You can go now."

Sam quickly hid behind a corner, so that the man that had just walked out wouldn't see him and then walked back in; pretending he'd never heard a thing. Dean raised his eyes to see who entered the tent this time and Sam smiled at him, but Dean's gaze just dropped back down to some papers, probably brought by the man that Sam had just passed. Sam felt the weird twinge of pain again, but shrugged it off and peeked over Dean's shoulder.

"What's that?" he asked with an overly joyous voice, but if Dean had noticed anything, he didn't let it on.

"Plans for the next move," Dean said tiredly and pushed the papers aside, but it seemed more like he just didn't want to look at them anymore than that he was trying to hide them from Sam.

"I'm going to take care of my horse now," Dean then said and stood up. "Will you have something to do or should I call someone to keep you busy?" he asked earnestly.

"I'll be fine, thanks," Sam said a little bitterly, because he was hoping to spend a little more time with Dean.

But the other man seemed not to notice this time either. He just shrugged and walked out of the tent, leaving Sam to himself.

Sam looked around the tent for the first time since he woke up, actually. It was a small space with one bed made of furs and some on the ground, probably meant for sitting. Aside from the papers that Dean was looking at moments ago, there was a pile of them in a corner, next to an armour. Probably Dean's. Sam closed his eyes and imagined the older man in the metallic dress, on a horse, riding to a battle...He had to stop himself, when his thoughts started to drift toward the time _after_ the battle, when Dean would have to undress and take a bath, because the member between his legs came suddenly alive and required attention.

He listened carefully for anything that would indicate that Dean or someone else was about to enter, but when he heard nothing, he sat on the edge of the bed, unlaced his pants and took his hard member in his hand. He closed his eyes and his mind immediately supplied him with images of Dean's lustful look from this morning. He wanted to know what would have happened, had Gordon never interrupted them. How did the angelic soldier kiss. How would his skin feel under Sam's hands. How would he look and sound if Sam was to pleasure him with his hand, like he was now doing to himself. With that image, Sam came all over his hand, moaning Dean's name out loud.

He quickly gathered himself and froze for a few seconds, waiting if someone had heard him, and would come running to see what was happening. Relief spread over his chest, when no one came. He noticed an old rag lying under the armour, so he quickly gathered it up and wiped his hands and lap in it. Then he decided, he had better washed the rag and himself, so he went to the stream, where Dean had sent him this morning.

On his way back, he noticed a couple of soldiers outside the camp, practising with swords. They were good, at least to Sam they were, but they never aimed to kill. The winner would always help to pick the loser from the ground and the beaten one would pat the winner's back and they would all laugh. It was fascinating. Sam walked closer and just watched them. He didn't know how long he'd spent there, when a hand gently tapping his back startled him.

"There you are, I couldn't find you," it was Dean's voice. Dean was a little sweaty and dirty and he smelled after horses, but if anything, it made him even more handsome in Sam's eyes.

"I thought you would be hungry," he said, giving Sam the bigger piece of the chicken he held in his hands.

"Thank you," Sam said with his mouth already filled.

He'd spent so much time without food, that he was eating everything as if it was his last meal now. Dean watched him with undisguised amusement as he ate his portion.

"Now I'm going to have to wash myself again," said Sam embarrassedly, when he finished eating, pointing at the grease smeared on his chin and hands.

Dean laughed, but then his expression softened. "I'll go with you."

Sam had to look away quickly to hide the blush that he was sure appeared on his face as they walked back towards the stream. They both washed their faces and hands and Sam stole a few glances at Dean's reflection.

"So you liked the sword fighting, huh?" Dean asked him unexpectedly.

"Yeah, but just this friendly one. I'm not a big friend of blood," Sam answered.

Dean looked at him then, with some kind of adoration in his eyes and he smiled warmly.

"Maybe I could teach you how to handle a sword, if you'd like," he said.

Sam's eyes widened and he nodded without thinking. So what if he never used the sword outside this camp again, as long as he got to spend some time with Dean.

"That is, if you eat properly to gain your strength back," Dean said. "Now you wouldn't even pick the sword up," he chuckled, but there was no insult behind that.

Sam just stuck out his tongue and splashed some water on Dean's face. Dean raised his eyebrow and for a moment, Sam got scared that maybe he crossed some line, but then Dean was laughing and splashing water back at Sam. Sam almost forgot for the moment, where he was. But then the magic was over, when strong wind blew over the camp and Sam, whose tunic was soaking wet, started shivering violently.

"Okay, enough fun. Let's get you dressed into some dry clothes," Dean said. His clothes were made of leather mostly, so the water just slid down. He wrapped an arm around Sam's waist to offer him as much warmth as he could and led him back to their tent.

He called on a small girl, who ran inside one of the tents and brought him a new tunic. Dean sat Sam down, put the tunic in his lap and turned around to give him some privacy. Sam's hands were shaking so hard, that it was almost impossible for him to change, but he managed after a while of fumbling with the clothing. Then he cleared his throat to let Dean know he could turn back around.

"God, you must be freezing," Dean looked him with horrified expression. "Even your lips turned blue!"

Sam lowered his gaze, because he wasn't sure what to say. It was true, he _was_ freezing. But at the same time, he didn't even think of complaining, because Dean was already kinder to him than he'd deserved.

"Here," Dean thankfully didn't wait for his answer as he put a pair of boots in front of him. "Put these on."

Sam did as told and then Dean put a coat over his shoulders.

"Are you any warmer now?"

Sam nodded and felt the leather shielding him from the cold already and the warmth spreading up his legs from his feet.

"You're too kind to me, Si-Dean," he murmured gratefully and looked away to avoid blushing again.

He saw Dean's hand go up toward his face and closed his eyes, waiting for the touch. But it never came. Dean just patted his shoulder awkwardly instead and laughed with easiness that was obviously faked.

"How about we go check upon the others? Someone's got to lead this place."

And with that, he walked out, expecting Sam to follow him. Sam frowned at Dean's actions, but followed him anyway. As they walked through the camp, Dean yelled an order here and there and everyone obeyed him, Sam's feeling that Dean was an important person in this legion got confirmed. The soldiers called him Dean, but the maidens and squires called him 'my lord'. Sam knew it would be even harder for him to keep calling him 'Dean' from then on.

Dean showed Sam around the camp, introduced him to a few soldiers, including Gordon from this morning. Sam was determined to hate the man, because he told Dean not to get close to Sam, but Gordon proved himself too kind-hearted and funny. Everyone seemed to like him, and Sam soon found himself charmed just as well. Actually, all of the men Dean had introduced to him seemed to have their hearts in the right place.

As the sun begun to set, they all sat around a big bonfire and the soldiers were exchanging stories. They were about battles or women mostly, and whenever someone finished talking, everyone would laugh, even though Sam often missed the joke. He was sitting next to Dean, their knees touching. Whenever Dean was the one to speak, he found himself not so much listening to what was said. He listened to the sound of Dean's voice instead. They offered him a chunk of the wild boar they were roasting and they even let him taste the wine all of them kept drinking. Everyone laughed when Sam ended up spitting all over himself and asking, how the hell could anyone drink that. It had a terribly bitter taste and burned his throat.

"It tastes like dirt, but it does wonders to a man," Gordon winked at him.

"Leave him be, we wouldn't want him to get drunk, would we," Dean said as he took the wine pouch away from Sam.

"I'm pretty sure _you_ would," Gordon mumbled quietly, so that Dean didn't hear him, but Sam wasn't sure what he meant by that. He did notice, though, that the more the men drank, the glassier their eyes get and the happier and more relaxed they seemed.

Sam also noticed that he wasn't the only one around the fire, who wasn't a soldier. The other boys would be called sometimes to fetch something for the soldier, but a few of the soldiers had a girl on their laps. Two of them even had a boy sitting between their legs. Sam wasn't dumb; he knew what it meant. The girls would laugh with the men, slap away their hands half-heartedly, but neither of them seemed uncomfortable or scared. And the boys were relaxed, leaning back on their soldiers, who were running hands through their hair. It made Sam like the soldiers even more, because he knew what greedy men were capable of doing, especially to girls. It also made him wish he could be sitting this close to Dean.

When the night was dark and first men started to yawn, they decided it was time to sleep. But before anyone stood up, the girls winked at each other and started singing. Their voices were soft and ringing like bells. The melody was sad and Sam didn't know the words, but the men started singing along. Even though their voices didn't exactly match, it was beautiful. Dean's voice might not be the sweetest or made for singing, but it was interesting to say the least. Sam could listen to him singing for hours.

Unfortunately, the song was over soon. The girls who started it earned a kiss on their cheeks and then everyone started to go away to their tents. Dean stood up and held out his hand to Sam, who grabbed and let Dean help him up. He didn't pull his hand away and they just stood there for a few seconds, hand in hand, looking into each other's eyes. Then Dean gave Sam a small smile and let his hand go.

When they entered the tent, Sam stood still for a moment, unsure what to do. He didn't want to make Dean sleep on the ground again. Dean just took his boots off, then his coat, let loose the strings on his pants and sat down on one of the furs on the ground. Then he noticed the lack of Sam's actions.

"Aren't you tired?" he asked.

"I am, but I don't want you to sleep on the ground because of me again," Sam shrugged, but he moved towards the bed and began to undo his boots as well.

When he looked up, he noticed Dean watching him with a strange expression. He also noticed how glassy his eyes were.

"You have a good heart, Sam," he said finally. "Pure. Don't ever let anything take that away."

Sam blushed slightly and sat down on the bed.

"You know," he said quietly, not able to meet the soldier's eyes. "There's plenty of room for the both of us."

Dean seemed taken aback by that offer. He blinked slowly and then bit his bottom lip.

"I don't think that would be wise," he said, but his eyes said something different.

Sam could see the way Dean was looking at him, he recognized the emotions, because he was feeling the same way whenever Dean was around. So what was stopping him? Why wouldn't he sit Sam between his legs like the other men around the fire? What was wrong with Sam that it wasn't right for Dean to touch him like _that_?

"I wasn't offering anything...you know," he pouted slightly. "I just thought you'd appreciate the bed, that's all."

He took off his own coat and laid back. He gave up the fleeting hope of Dean joining him and closed his eyes to sleep, when he felt the weight of another body next to him. Surprised, he rolled on his side and found himself just a few inches away from glassy green eyes. From the close distance, he was able to make out the soft dusting of freckles, which was decorating the other man's nose and the small scar above his left eyebrow.

Sam's heart was beating fast again as he reached out and touched his cheek. He heard Dean's breath hitch and then he started inching his face closer slowly. Sam's heart fluttered. They stayed still like that for a while, just forehead against forehead with Sam's hand stroking Dean's face slowly. Then Dean closed his eyes and sighed. When he opened them again, they were full of heartache.

"I wish things were different, Sam. Less...complicated," he said quietly and his breath was tickling Sam's chin.

"Don't you want this?" Sam asked in a small voice.

His heart sank somewhere very deep, when Dean shook his head.

"I can't."

Sam had to face away from him, so that Dean wouldn't see the tears that started falling from his eyes. He didn't want him to know just how much that hurt him. He would never have with Dean, what the others had with their soldiers. Dean didn't want him. It hurt way more than it had any right to.

"I'm so sorry," Dean whispered and his voice sounded a lot like he was fighting tears himself.

Sam just shrugged and focused on crying soundlessly. Dean must have noticed the shaking, though, but fortunately, he misinterpreted it.

"Are you cold, Sam?"

"Yes," Sam whispered, because he didn't want Dean to start prying for the truth.

His heart almost stopped, when he felt an arm wrapping around his waist and pulling him closer to the solid, strong body behind him. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth in the heroic effort of trying not to fall apart, surrounded by everything he'd ever wanted, but could never have.

"Is it better now?" Dean asked.

Sam just nodded and tried to ignore the way Dean's touch warmed him inside, how his breath felt against his neck and how Sam could feel every rise and fall of his chest. It was impossible. Eventually, he fell asleep.

-xXx-

When he woke up from a dream full of green eyes and gentle touches, he realized he was alone. Sam quickly got dressed and ate the bread and cheese he found waiting for him by the entrance. Then he walked out, stretched out his arms and yawned. He looked around the camp and saw that everybody was already awake and doing their work. That reminded Sam, that he still wasn't sure what was he supposed to do. There was no sign of Dean.

Sam walked up to the stream to wash the sleep out of his eyes, when he heard clenching of swords. He turned around and noticed that a couple of soldiers were in fact practising again. Since he didn't have anything better to do anyway, he walked up there to watch.

He recognized Dean almost immediately. He was good with the sword, better than most. He was winning even though they were three against him. Then he noticed Sam and his eyes widened in surprise. Sam couldn't help but smile, even though his heart was still aching for him. And then one of the soldiers, Lawrence if Sam was not mistaken, put his sword to Dean's throat. Sam gasped, terrified for a moment, but then the sword was gone and Lawrence was laughing.

"Don't let that boy of yours get you killed, Dean!"

"Shut up!" Dean blushed slightly, but laughed with the others.

Sam's smile faltered. He would never be Dean's boy.

"He likes you, lad, you know?" said Gordon, who appeared by his side out of nowhere. "And if it weren't for his damn loyalty to Castiel, he would have you, too," he added, shaking his head in obvious disagreement.

This was the second time Gordon mentioned the name Castiel and that he was somehow responsible for Sam and Dean not being able to be together. Sam hated this Castiel, whoever he was.

"Now don't get me wrong, Castiel is one of the best pals I could have wished for in this hell of a life," he added quickly, when he noticed the way Sam was glaring. "And I'm sure he would be more than happy letting Dean have you, if only Dean asked. But that damn fool is too fair to do that."

"I don't understand," Sam said truthfully.

"You see, everything we saved from that village belongs to us now. And here always the biggest and best share goes to the Commander. In our case, Castiel," Gordon sighed.

"I don't want to belong to anyone," Sam frowned.

"Oh lad," Gordon laughed. "We saved you, you play by our rules. Besides, do you even have anywhere else to go?"

Sam was almost certain that Gordon didn't mean to hurt him by his choice of words. But he still did. Until now, Sam had a feeling that he was being looked at like a human being again. That he mattered to someone. And now he found out that it was all just a pretence, that he would be back to being a thing in no time.

He quickly excused himself and returned to their tent. He curled on the bed and started crying. He cried for his parents, that he would never see again. He cried for his sister, who died such a horrible death. He cried, because he didn't die and the future he was facing seemed even worse than Hell itself. He cried, because he couldn't be with the one person he truly wanted to be with, because Dean didn't love him enough to make it happen.

He didn't even bother to raise his head, when he heard someone step into the tent.

"Sam, there you- Sam?" a familiar voice said.

Then someone was suddenly by his side, gathering him into his arms. Sam recognized the scent of Dean. He couldn't bear to be this close, not now.

"Get away from me!" he pushed him away.

The surprise and flash of hurt in Dean's eyes seemed real, but Sam knew better now.

"You don't care about me!" he yelled. "You don't care! Why did you save me, why?!" he demanded. "You saw what they did to us, how they treated us! And you only brought me here to sell me off like a slave _again_? How _could_ you?"

Sam stopped yelling and cried even harder, needing to get all the grief off his chest. Dean was hesitant for a moment, but then he wrapped his arms around him once again. Sam didn't fight him this time, he just sobbed into his chest.

"Shh, calm down, Sam," Dean whispered into Sam's hair. "I don't know where'd you hear all that, but none of it is true. I would never do that to you. Never."

Sam wasn't entirely convinced by Dean's words. The man would probably say anything to calm him down. But at least he was here. At least he cared enough to hold Sam, to comfort him. Sam decided it had to be enough.

Dean was mostly avoiding him after that. There was no bonfire that night; everyone went to sleep early. Dean slept on the ground again that night.

-xXx-

Sam was woken up early by someone shaking his shoulders. It was Dean.

"Get up! We have to get the camp ready!"

Sam yawned and rubbed his eyes, but when he opened them again, Dean was already gone. When he got out of the tent, everyone was on their feet, working on something.

"Bring those to the medical tent, will you?" someone told him and put some bloodied rags into his arms. Sam did as he was told. The chatter told him that Lord Castiel was coming. That was whom they were preparing the camp for.

When everything was done, they were waiting outside the camp. The soldiers, led by Dean, were obviously very excited, behind them were girls and boys but none of them seemed as unsure of what to expect as Sam was. His chest clenched, when they spotted horses in the distance. The closer the riders got, the harder it was for Sam to breathe. When they finally arrived, Sam thought he would pass out any moment.

The man in the front of the arriving pack must have been Castiel. He was a few years older than Dean and he had a beard he'd probably started growing not too long ago. His eyes were the brightest blue Sam had ever seen. They were probably as blue as Dean's were green. And the man looked tired.

"How dare you fight battles, when I'm not around to save your ass?" his voice was gruff as he jumped off his horse.

Sam frowned at his words, but Dean stepped closer with a grin on his face.

"Maybe if you weren't running off like an old woman, you would know what victory tastes like!"

And in the next heartbeat, the men were hugging each other. Sam was confused. Hadn't they just insulted each other?

"I'm so glad to see you are all right, my friend," said Castiel, all the gruffness from his voice gone.

"As am I," Dean said as they pulled away.

"Come on, my lord," said Lawrence. "You have to tell us about your exciting journey to the capital."

Everyone laughed and Castiel rolled his eyes. Sam felt a pinch of jealousy in his gut, because Dean never once took his eyes off Castiel. If _this_ was the reason he didn't want him, then Sam didn't know how he'd survive having to deal with Castiel every day for the rest of his life.

-xXx-

Nobody remembered Sam until late afternoon. And even then, it wasn't Dean, who came to fetch him from his tent. Sam found himself missing the older man ridiculously. He was escorted to a big tent, which wasn't there before, as Sam noticed. Castiel, Dean, Gordon, Lawrence and two other soldiers were sitting in a circle. They turned around as he walked in. Castiel smiled at him.

"So, you are Samuel, right?"

Sam nodded. Castiel got up and reached out his hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you. My name's Castiel."

Sam shook his hand politely.

"Would you mind giving us a moment alone?" Castiel asked his companions.

Dean's face hardened. He looked down at his fists as he slowly unclenched them. But when he was patting Castiel's back, he was smiling again, even though the smile seemed forced. He never spared Sam a glance and that only made being alone in one tent with Castiel even harder.

"Tell me, Samuel," Castiel turned back to him. "How do you like the camp? Have my men been nice to you?"

"Yes, my lord," Sam lowered his gaze. The title reminded him, whom he was talking to.

"Oh please," Castiel rolled his eyes. "I wish everyone dropped the 'my lord' act around me."

Sam shifted his weight uncomfortably. Well, this wasn't the best start.

"I've heard what you were rescued from. I'm really sorry about what happened to you. Where did you live before?"

"Stanford plains," Sam answered; the name of his homeland stirring new wave of ache in his chest.

"Oh," Castiel bit his bottom lip. "I heard about that. I'm sorry," he squeezed Sam's shoulder sympathetically.

Sam didn't flinch, but he was glad, when the man's hand was off his shoulder again.

"I have to ask you a few questions about your...imprisonment," Castiel said then.

Sam's head snapped up. He didn't see that one coming.

"I suppose, you and the others were something like their slaves, right?"

Sam nodded.

"And what did they have you do?"

"Well," Sam scratched the back of his head. "Everything, actually. From preparing their meal to cleaning their latrines. They would punish us if we protested to do anything."

"Punish you, how?"

"Usually whipping or hanging on a cross to starve. Sometimes even death. Depended on their mood, I think."

"And did they ever...," Castiel hesitated. "Force you to do...you know. Something sexual."

Sam blinked. Why did Castiel want to know all of this?

"Erm, the men, they sometimes forced us to...uh...use their mouth on them. You know," he felt the heat in his cheeks. "But nothing more."

That was the truth. He almost choked the first two times it happened, but then he just resigned and let the barbarians have whatever they wanted. They didn't really care whose mouth they stick their dicks into, but when they wanted more, they chose the girls. Even though she'd never said anything, he was sure Jo had her fair share of such attacks. The thought made him shudder.

"I'm sorry, let's not talk about that anymore," said Castiel, but his eyes seemed a little brighter. As though he was pleased by what he'd heard.

There was a moment of silence and Sam started studying the names of the books that were in the back. Castiel noticed the direction he was looking and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You know how to read?"

"Yes, I went to scholars back home."

"But that is amazing! I will have someone bring to you some books here then."

"H-here?" Sam stilled in shock.

"Yes, you'll be living with me from now on. I hope it isn't a problem," Castiel said with a smile, but he was already walking out of the tent, so opposing probably wasn't an option.

Sam felt as though someone just threw a bucket of cold water at him. He didn't want to live with this man. He was hoping to spend the rest of the nights in this camp with Dean. Maybe it would get him to change his mind. But now, there was no hope.

He followed Castiel out, just in time to see a squire with a small bag of the clothes that Dean managed to get for him, carrying it out of Dean's tent, which was just a couple of yards away from Castiel's. He saw Dean, as well. He was glaring daggers at the squire. Then he noticed Sam, bit his bottom lip and looked down. Gordon next to him put a comforting hand on his shoulder, but he just shrugged it off and stormed away.

-xXx-

A few days after that, they were packing up to leave. Sam didn't really have much to complain about, except for the lack of Dean's presence. Whenever he got to go out of the tent, he felt Dean's eyes on him, and when he searched properly, he found him. But Dean never tried to make any contact whatsoever. It was saddening and probably one of the reasons, why Sam was spending most of his time reading love poetry with tragic endings. He felt like he could relate, even though there was never any _true love_ between him and Dean.

As for Castiel, he couldn't really complain about the way the Commander was treating him. He had his peace and time to read. Whenever he had questions, Castiel would explain everything as well as he could. There were some occasional touches and brushes, but he didn't demand anything from Sam. They even had separate beds. On second look, Sam had to admit, that Castiel was beautiful in an unique, sad way. He could imagine falling for the man, had it been _him_ who'd saved him that night and not Dean.

When Sam's and Castiel's things were all packed, Castiel kindly sent Sam off to discuss some private manner with his closest soldiers. Sam was hanging out around the camp, watching others fold their tents. Then he'd seen the group of soldiers walk out of their tent, so he walked back. Before he could step inside, though, he heard Dean's voice from inside.

"Is this some sort of punishment, Castiel?" Dean demanded angrily.

"No, it's a proof of how much I trust you, Dean," Castiel answered calmly.

"Then why are you sending me off with _him_? You know that I'm a warrior, a soldier. Why do I have to be the one to babysit your boys?"

Sam's heart started to beat faster at that. He was certain they were talking about him and the way Dean spoke about him was painful.

"Dean, you said you owed me after Counterville. I'm calling in that favour now. Do this and we're even."

"When I said that, I meant dying for you on a battlefield and not playing a nanny to a foundling," Dean growled in aggravation. "Why don't you ask Lawrence or Jeremy, they're also good men."

"Every man in our legion is a good one, but I trust none of them as much as I trust you. Please Dean. Samuel's perfect for me. And we still have at least one battle to win. I don't want him there, I want him safe, waiting for me to get home. I'm asking you on behalf of our friendship, do this favour for me. I'll never ask anything of you again."

"You will," Dean sighed. "Because I still want you to. I will do it. But I still feel like you don't want me on that battlefield for a reason."

"That's not true, Dean. And thank you."

Then Dean walked out and when he spotted Sam, the look he gave him was full of such heated anger, that Sam just wanted to curl up on himself and die. He walked in and nodded at Castiel, but inside he was crushed. He had no idea how he wronged the man he'd come to have such strong feelings for, but it was devastating to know, that Dean only saw him as a burden.

When Castiel informed him that their paths will part for a short while and that Dean was to escort him to Haven, Castiel's hometown; he just nodded and pretended for it to be surprise to him. They walked out to find Dean and two horses waiting for them. Dean and Castiel hugged shortly.

"You better return in one piece, my friend," Dean said to him.

"Don't worry. And thank you again," Castiel replied and then he walked up to Sam and kissed his forehead. Sam didn't dare to look at Dean to see his reaction.

"I'll be awaiting the day we meet again," he mumbled quietly.

"Me too, my lord," Sam said, because it was expected from him, but he was wishing for the Earth to take mercy on him and swallow him down.

-xXx-

They were on the road until the sun disappeared behind a horizon and they never uttered a word. They would stop to empty their bladders or stretch their legs and Sam wanted nothing more than to break the terrible silence, but Dean wasn't even looking at him. He just stared into the distance ahead of them, his jaw firmly shut and his lips pressed into one thin line.

When the night fell upon them, they stopped for the night. Without a word, Dean set up a campfire. Sam felt useless, so he just sat down with his back against a tree and watched the flames, fighting hard the tears that were burning in his eyes.

"I'm going to hunt something; can you take care of the fire?" Dean's voice surprised Sam so much, that he jumped a few feet high.

"S-sure," he stammered, but before he could say anything else, Dean was gone.

Sam was adding one piece of wood after another until he run out and he had to go look for more. That was when he realized, that Dean'd been gone for quite some time. When he returned with an armful of wood, Dean still wasn't there. He added some wood to the fire and then it occurred to him that Dean probably left him there to die. He'd told Castiel that he didn't want to take care of him. So he dumped him in these woods, because he never loved him. His heart was clenched so painfully, that he started to cry.

He didn't hear the steps, or see Dean appear between the trees with a hare in his hands and victorious grin on his face.

"Bastard was hard to catch. But I got him!"

It was the sound of his voice, that made Sam look up and gape at Dean with opened mouth.

"Sam, are you alright?" Dean's forehead wrinkled.

Without any warning, Sam launched himself at Dean.

"I thought you weren't coming back," he sobbed, ignoring the smell of the dead hare. "I thought you left me here; I didn't know what to do!"

"Hey, easy now, Sam," Dean dropped the dead body, wiped his hands in his pants and held Sam through his sobs. "I'm here. Not leaving you. Calm down."

Sam stopped crying and pulled away a little to look into Dean's face, but he was still holding his arms tightly.

"Why are you taking me to Haven?" he asked.

Dean's eyes darkened and his face hardened, but he didn't push Sam away.

"Because Castiel asked me to. He's my closest friend. He trusts me to get you there and that's what I intend to do. Let me make dinner, okay? I'm starving and you must be too."

It was true, so Sam let go of Dean, even though reluctantly, and sat down. The awkward silence was back, but at least this time Sam knew, that if he were to break it, Dean would probably respond. He just couldn't find the right words.

"Here, eat something," Dean sat next to him and pushed the meat in Sam's face, once it was done and ready to be eaten.

They ate in silence, disturbed only by the smacking of their lips. When the hare was gone and the bones thrown away, Sam felt the coldness of the forest creep up his body and he started shivering.

"You're not a prisoner, Sam," Dean said softly. "You are allowed to say that you're cold."

With that, he got up and walked to their horses. He returned with two furs and two coats.

"Here," he tossed one of each at Sam. "Let's go to sleep."

Sam waited until Dean was lying down on the fur and covered himself with the coat and then put his fur right next to him. He was trying to be as indifferent about it as possible, but he was sure he wasn't fooling anyone. When he finally laid next to Dean, he just couldn't stand the proximity without trying to inch closer to the other man. It didn't escape Dean's attention, though.

"Sam..." he warned, but Sam didn't want to hear it.

"I'm really cold," he lied.

He heard Dean sigh, but at least he stopped trying to squirm away and let Sam press against his side. He seemed to be looking at the stars, so Sam's gaze followed his.

"What does Castiel want with me?" he finally voiced the question that was troubling him the most.

"He just wants you," Dean said with a hint of sadness. "You're perfect for him, he says. And you should be happy about it, not frightened. There's no one better for you than him. I've known him for years, I would know."

"There is someone..." Sam said and looked into Dean's eyes.

He saw the recognition and then the pain, before he was pushed away.

"No, Sam. That would be treason. I wouldn't betray Castiel like that."

"But we had something; back in the camp, before Castiel came and took me away from you!" Sam demanded. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't feel it!"

Dean closed his eyes for a brief moment and when he opened them again, his expression was unreadable.

"No Sam, we didn't have _anything_. I was just taking care of you for Castiel, that's all there ever was."

Sam shook his head, unable to believe his own ears. When they shared bed that one time...he'd been so sure...it couldn't be true...no...

He stood up on shaky legs and made couple of wobbly steps.

"Sam...?" Dean asked warily, but he was the last person Sam wanted to see or hear.

So he ran. He heard Dean shouting his name, which only made him run faster. He ran until he couldn't hear him anymore and even then, he didn't stop. He had to get away from the hurt and the shame that the soldier brought him. How could he have been so naive? To think that there was something, when there obviously wasn't...

He was so caught up in his own head, that he didn't notice the rope, that was stretched over the path, until he stumbled over it and fell down on his face.

"Well, well, well..." he heard a strange voice. "What do we have here?"

He looked up to see a group of four men surrounding him. They were all dressed in black, with short daggers on their hips.

"Aren't you a bit too young to be running around the woods like that?" One of them said with an evil grin.

He bowed down and hauled Sam up by the collar.

"And a bit too pretty, too," he leered at him and licked his neck.

Sam tried to gain some advantage of being a few inches higher and pushed the man away. He staggered backwards, but two of his companions were immediately by Sam's side, pinning him to a tree.

The first attacker came back and put his dagger on Sam's throat.

"Well, maybe I'm going to have to teach you some manners first," he sneered and then cut the air out of Sam's windpipe. Sam was trying to get away, gasping for breath, but he felt the consciousness slipping away from him. The blackness was seeping from the corners of his eyes and he was saying his goodbyes to the world.

His last thought was of Dean. And the last thing he saw had been a sword cutting through the attacker's chest.

-xXx-

When he was aware of himself again and tried to move, he felt his throat and legs aching terribly.

"Thank God," he heard a familiar voice and then he was being pulled into strong arms.

Sam groaned in pain, because of the sudden movement. Then the events of the attack appeared in his mind and he searched for the attackers.

"Where are they?" he said in a barely audible voice.

"Dead," Dean said. "I was so scared, Sam, don't ever do that again!"

And that was when the events before the attack came crashing down on Sam and he gathered all his strength to push the man away.

"Liar," he hoarsed.

It was still dark, so he couldn't see where they were, but he guessed they were back to where they first stopped, if the cold campfire was anything to go by.

"Either back then, or now, but you lied to me," he said with a stronger voice.

He stretched his muscles and the throbbing ache was slowly subsiding.

"Yes," Dean whispered breathlessly and brought their foreheads back together. "I lied to you. We had something, in the camp. I'm so sorry, Sam. I should have stopped you from falling for it. I knew we could never be. But it was too strong. I was hoping beyond hope that something would bring us together. I'm sorry. So sorry.

It wasn't until he felt drops of water falling on his chest, when he realized that Dean was crying. Suddenly, Sam felt terrible for making him cry. He angled his head and aimed to kiss Dean, but Dean backed away quickly.

"We can't, Sam. You know we can't," he shook his head wildly.

"No one's ever going to know, Dean," Sam whispered and kept coming closer, until Dean stood up. "No one ever _has _to know," he stood up as well and gripped Dean's shoulders.

He was just an inch from Dean's mouth.

"Sam, please," Dean pleaded, but Sam wasn't sure, if he was asking him to back off or come closer.

So he kissed him. It was just a press of his lips against Dean's, but it seemed to make all Dean's restraints disappear. Dean's mouth opened under his and they kissed hungrily like there was no tomorrow. Sam felt Dean's hands on his back, pressing him even closer and his hands disappeared in Dean's hair. It was heated, it was desperate and it was perfect.

They pulled away after a while, both panting and breathing each other's air.

"Sam, I-" he felt Dean starting to pull away, so he quickly sealed his mouth over Dean's again to prevent him from changing his mind.

They lowered themselves down on the ground and Sam let Dean be on top. He enjoyed the taste of Dean's mouth, the way it felt when it worked its way down his neck to his chest. He moaned softly when Dean's hands found their way under Sam's tunic and roamed over his chest.

"Oh God, Sam," Dean almost sobbed, before another frantic kiss.

Sam felt Dean's hands fumble with the laces of his pants. Their breaths were coming out shorter and harsher with each second passed and Sam was so hard, he thought he might explode. And then Dean touched him _there_.

"Dean, oh yes, DEAN!" he screamed, because nothing he'd ever experienced felt as good as this. Dean's hand was working miracles and soon he was a writhing mess. A few more strokes and an expert slide of the thumb over the crown and Sam was coming undone, moaning Dean's name for the world to hear.

He was completely blissed out for a few seconds and then he felt Dean collapsing next to him and wiping his hand in the leaves.

"S-Sam, I-" Dean tried to say, but Sam wasn't ready to let this moment go, not yet.

He climbed on the top of Dean and silenced him with another soul-searing kiss.

"Shh, Dean, don't talk," he whispered against the skin on his neck as he worked his way down. "Don't think."

He lowered himself between Dean's legs and slowly undone the pants and pushed them down to Dean's knees. Dean's flushed and aching hard sex greeted him as he did.

"Sam, don't-aaarrgh," Dean never had the chance to finish what he wanted to say, because Sam's mouth closed over his member to prevent him from talking. "Don't _stop_," he moaned breathlessly instead.

Sam was doing his best to pleasure Dean, but letting some brute do with his mouth as he pleases and making it good for the man you love are two completely different things. So he just followed his instinct. He felt Dean's hands threading into his head and adjusting the pace to his liking. He let the strong musk of Dean's sex fill his nostrils and tried to remember the way Dean felt and tasted in his mouth. Then he felt Dean trying to pull his head away and he guessed he must be close. So he gripped his hips tightly and ran his tongue along the thick shaft to the top, then swirled it and then Dean was spilling down his throat.

"Sam..." he breathed, when he was done, his voice cracked and slightly broken.

Sam climbed back up and kissed Dean deeply. He moaned, when he could taste himself on Sam's tongue. They kissed for a long while, their hands exploring each other bodies over and over again. Sam was hoping to exhaust Dean enough, so that he would sleep peacefully, without worrying about what they'd just done. Because Sam had no regrets and he didn't want Dean to have them either.

He was sprawled on Dean's chest, listening to his heartbeat and Dean was running fingers through his hair.

"I love you," Sam whispered quietly, because it was the truth.

He saw Dean squeeze his eyes and bite his bottom lip, so he pressed even harder against him to prevent him from pulling away.

"Go to sleep," Dean said finally, but instead of pushing Sam away, he wrapped his arms around him.

"Goodnight, Dean," Sam kissed the corner of Dean's mouth and closed his eyes. Sleep found him almost immediately.

-xXx-

The sun found him alone. There were no traces of the fire and Dean was already readying their horses to go. When he noticed that Sam was awake, he just averted his eyes and mumbled something about needing to go on. Sam touched his shoulder as he walked to his own horse, but the anguish in Dean's eyes made him pull back again.

He wasn't sure what he was actually expecting, but the way Dean wouldn't even look at him anymore was breaking his heart. And to make matters worse, Dean seemed so _guilty_ about the whole thing. Like he was the one to initiate it, to take advantage of Sam.

They stopped to eat and Sam just couldn't stand the deafening silence anymore.

"Dean," he tried, but the addressed just lowered his head even more, instead of looking up at him. "Please, talk to me. What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" Dean snorted and pushed away the loaf of bread, he'd barely eaten off. "I'll tell you what's wrong. I just fucking betrayed my best friend, who'd trust me with his life, that's what's wrong!" he yelled with tears in his eyes.

"No, Dean, that's not how I remember it," Sam said firmly. "I remember you being scared for my life, because I ran off and got myself into trouble. And I remember using the opportunity to seduce you. It was in no way your fault, Dean."

Dean just shook his head and got up. He walked away a few steps and then he punched a tree. Sam quickly sprung up and hurried to see if he'd hurt himself, but Dean just turned away from him. Sam had the chance to see the tears on Dean's cheeks, though. He pressed Dean against the tree, forcing him to face him and then hugged him tightly. Dean was shaking in his arms and soon he just gave up and placed his head on Sam's shoulder.

"I'm so sick of myself," Dean managed to choke out, while Sam was trying to soothe him with gentle caresses. "How could I let that happen? How could I do that to him? To _you_?"

"You didn't do anything wrong, Dean. Not in my eyes. If anything, it only made me love you more," he said honestly.

"That's exactly what I mean!" Dean abruptly pulled away from Sam. "I'm supposed to be letting you go, not tying you even closer to me!"

"Look, if last night never happened," Sam said to Dean's back. "I would be standing here, just as I am now, wishing it had, instead of being glad it did."

Dean wiped away his tears and turned around to smile sadly at Sam.

"I don't deserve your heart, Sam. Keep it."

And with that, he got on his horse, waiting for Sam to do the same. Sam couldn't understand how Dean could still think of him as pure and innocent. If he had a reason to regret what they did the night before, it was the pain it was causing Dean now.

-xXx-

They reached Haven before nightfall. They went straight to the house that probably belonged to Castiel and Dean told the man in the main door, who they were. They were immediately let in. Soon, there was a young woman running down the stairs to greet them. Her eyes were the same bright blue as Castiel's, so Sam guessed this was his sister.

"Dean!" she hugged him. "I'm so happy to see you again."

"I'm happy to see you too, Anna," Dean smiled. "This is Samuel. Castiel's chosen one," he pointed at Sam with a fake smile.

"Oh," Anna rushed to hug him as well. "Welcome to the family then, Samuel. I will have some servant show you your room. And you Dean, come with me. You have to tell me everything about how you and my brother have been."

She disappeared up the stairs and Dean followed her, but before he disappeared out of sight completely, he shot one last sad look at Sam.

And then Sam was alone. Left with a sinking feeling, that it was the last time he ever saw Dean.

-xXx-

Sam was half hoping, that _not_ seeing Dean would make his life easier. But with each day passed, the ache in his heart was getting worse. And his nights, when he managed to sleep at all, were the only moments he felt happy again, even though waking up from the dreams only made living that much harder.

_It was the middle of night, the moon was shining brightly and the light was illuminating Sam's chamber. He was sitting on his bed, knees drawn to his chin and thinking about Dean-again. He wiped away angrily the tear that was rolling down his cheek and sighed. Then he froze, because he heard the door of his chamber squeal. He watched the door open with waves of horror rushing down his spine. When the door finally opened, there stood Dean._

"_Hello, Sam," he smiled at him._

"_Oh my god," Sam breathed out and covered his mouth. "Dean, what are you doing here?"_

"_I've missed you. I had to see you," Dean closed the distance between them in few strides. "I can't live without you, Sam," he said, looking straight into Sam's eyes. "Run away with me. Run away with me _tonight_."_

_Sam wanted to say no. Even as he was opening his mouth, he still meant to say no. But what left his lips was: "Yes. Let's run away together."_

_And then he was kissing Dean. He tried to pour everything into that kiss. How he'd missed Dean. How sorry he was that their lives turned out this way. How much he loved Dean and wanted to be with him, and only him._

"_Sam," Dean panted, when they finally broke off, foreheads pressed together. "Oh god, Sam. I love you. I love you so much."_

_Sam's heart leaped happily. These were the words he needed to hear from Dean. Even if they never managed to get away, at least he would know that Dean loved him back. The rest didn't matter._

"Sam?" Anna's voice broke him from his daydreaming. "Are you in there somewhere?" she laughed softly.

"Hello, Anna," Sam smiled, but inside he felt dead, because the words he needed to hear the most were the ones, he would never get to hear.

"A couple of friends arrived for a feast and they would love to meet you. Would you like to join us in the dining room?"

"I'd like that," Sam said, even though the exact opposite was the truth.

Every time he was introduced to someone, it was at _the one that belongs to Castiel_. And he didn't want to belong to Castiel. He wanted to be Dean's. And none of those people knew, understood or even cared. To them, he was just Samuel, the boy who was rescued from barbarians, and now had to live with Castiel. Dean was the only one to call him Sam. He cared for Sam's well being, even if it meant giving him up. But Dean wasn't there anymore. Sam just wanted to be left alone to die.

That was why he stopped dead in his tracks, once he stepped inside the dining room and saw Dean at the table. He opened his mouth and stared. Everybody got quiet, when he and Anna entered the room and Sam could have sworn, he'd seen a flash of light in Dean's eyes, before he looked away again.

"Everyone, this is Samuel. The one my brother is supposed to marry, once he finally returns from his journey," Anna announced with pride decorating her voice.

Everyone started applauding, but Sam thought he was going to throw up, even though he hadn't even eaten yet. Knowing he would have to live with Castiel was one thing, but living with him in _marriage? _That was something completely different. It was so terrifying; he had to search out Dean's face for comfort. The way Dean was frowning and his jaw was firmly set had told him, that Dean already knew about this. Well, of course he did, he was Castiel's closest friend after all.

Sam sat down next to Anna a little stiffly, unable to eat or laugh along with the others. He just listened to them, smiled politely and nodded, when they were telling him, how lucky he was. Sam's frustration was steadily turning into anger, when he noticed the wench that was sitting on Dean's lap and who was getting all the attention that Sam wanted for himself. He glared daggers at the couple, but Dean didn't look his way even once.

When Dean leaned in to whisper something into the girl's ear, that made her burst out in laughter, Sam's intestines knotted together and twisted with jealousy and insecurity. What if Dean had never felt anything close to love for him? Could he be over him, when Sam was crying his eyes out every night and wishing himself away every day? Why hadn't Dean tried to contact him at least once?

As all these questions were torturing him, a servant came to Anna and whispered to her something, that made her glow. She quickly stood up and clapped her hands to get everyone's attention.

"I've just gotten the best news," she spoke aloud. "My brother will be returning home tomorrow!"

Sam could hear the tears of happiness in her voice. It was probably very long since she'd last seen him. But he couldn't share her excitement. He felt like he was punched in the guts. There was no air in his lungs and his head was spinning. It was just way too soon. In another _lifetime_ would have been too soon for Sam's liking. He excused himself and all but ran out of the dining hall.

"Samuel? Is something wrong?" He was stopped by Anna's voice, who obviously didn't understand why Sam wasn't as thrilled by the news as he was supposed to be. "You look a little sick," she added.

Sam didn't know what to say and he was afraid, that if he opened his mouth, he'd spill out the truth.

"He didn't know, Anna," a too-familiar voice saved him. "It was supposed to be a surprise. I think he needs a little time to process the news. Isn't that right, Samuel?"

Dean was looking at him. It was crazy; everything Sam wanted the past few days was for Dean to come to him, to talk to him, to show that he cares. And now that he did, Sam couldn't stand to even look at his face. He was so furious at Dean, who just stood there like Sam's world hadn't exploded in just a few minutes, like Dean wasn't the reason Sam was feeling the way he did. So he just nodded, mumbled his apologies to Anna and disappeared into his room.

He heard the knock on his door almost immediately. He didn't have to look to know who entered the room.

"Go away!"

He heard Dean sigh, but instead of going away, he took a few steps towards Sam.

"Don't touch me!" Sam jerked away, when the other man tried to reach out and touch his shoulder. "You knew! All this time, you knew _exactly_ what I was to expect," he yelled, because being angry was the only way to prevent himself from crying and he certainly didn't want Dean to see him cry.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but Sam way already too far gone to stop.

"I've been waiting here, every night, hoping that you'd come to me. I've been dreaming of you taking me away. I love you for God's sake! I love you so much it hurts and you just forgot to mention that I was to be _married_ to someone else as you watched me fall for you. You just left me here alone the first moment you got the chance. I wish I could hate you," he hissed the last words and regretted them immediately, when he watched Dean's eyes fill with pain and then bow his head.

"You have every right to hate me, Sam," he said quietly and Sam wanted to shake him and scream, because he'd _just said_ he didn't hate him. "I am sorry for everything I've put you through. For all it's worth, I wish more often than not, that you hadn't met me to begin with. I hate myself for causing you so much pain," Dean's voice was so filled with hurt and self-hatred, that it was all Sam could do not to throw away all his dignity and hug him. But Dean looked back up at him and bravely continued.

"But I'm sorry, I can't make myself regret meeting you. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, even though I could never have you. I should have held myself back and I'm sorry for the moment of weakness that probably caused you to feel as confused as you do now, but I don't have any regrets. I will leave this town after the ceremony and I will probably never see you again, but before I do, I have something to tell you. I love you, Sam. I have from the very beginning and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I hadn't told you."

Sam felt the tears prickle in the corner of his eyes. He almost pinched himself to be sure that this wasn't just another dream. Dean loved him. Oh God, Dean _loved _him! Everything around Sam was falling down on him and yet this simple sentence made him feel as happy as never. He almost threw himself in Dean's arms, but Dean spoke again.

"I want you to forget about me. I want you to give Castiel all your heart, because he deserves nothing less and I know he's already given you his. But I needed you to know that what we had, meant everything to me, even if it wasn't supposed to last. Farewell, Sam. You shall forever be in my thoughts."

And with that, he was gone, before Sam even had a chance to say anything.

-xXx-

When Castiel returned the next day, it was a big celebration. The house was overflowing with food, wine and people. Naturally, Sam had to be there for the feast, but fortunately for him, Castiel seemed too exhausted and busy with other people, who all wanted to welcome him back, to require too much of his attention.

Sam watched Castiel. The man was smiling at his friends, even though he was visibly very tired. He was a nice, gentle and caring human being. He deserved to have someone to love, who would love him back with all their heart. And this someone just wasn't Sam.

He noted the absence of Dean, but he guessed the two friends must have met earlier and greet each other on their own terms. Neither Dean nor Castiel seemed comfortable in such gatherings as this. He was seated close to Castiel to hear what he was saying and whenever someone brought up the subject of war and battles, Castiel would always make sure the conversation revolved around Dean somehow. As if he tried to show everyone that just because he wasn't there, it didn't mean anyone should forget about him. It tugged at Sam's heart a little and he understood perfectly why Dean was so ashamed of himself for what he and Sam had done. But it didn't make him regret anything.

Later that he was knocking on Castiel's door with a firm decision to tell the man the truth. He didn't deserve to be deceived and Sam just couldn't go through marrying him. He would very much like to be the man's friend, but a partner? He would never be able to live with himself if he did that.

"Oh, Samuel, it's so nice of you to visit me. Even though my tiredness will bore you soon, I'm afraid."

Sam's heart clenched, when he'd seen the honest joy of seeing him on Castiel's face, but he clenched his fists and decided to go through with this.

"My lord...Castiel...I'm here to tell you," he swallowed against the lump that had formed in his throat. "That I can't marry you."

There, he said it. Watching the pain and confusion settle in Castiel's face, as the words sunk in, had been terrible, but Sam decided to finish this, once he'd started.

"What do you mean?" Castiel asked him quietly.

"You should marry someone that loves you truly, unconditionally and whose worthy of your love. And that can't be me, because," he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down at least a little. "Because my heart belongs to someone else."

He closed his eyes, waiting for Castiel to start yelling at him, to throw him out of his house, because of his ingratitude. He wasn't really surprised, though, when that never came. Castiel sat down on his bed heavily and rubbed his face.

"Who?"

Sam kind of expected that question.

"I can't tell you, I don't want him to be punished for something that was by no means his fault." Sam saw Castiel open his mouth to protest, so he quickly continued. "It was all me. This...this man, he is one of your soldiers. But you have to understand, he'd never tried to steal me away from you. The exact opposite, actually. Even though I continued to show him my feelings for him and I tried to gain his affection, he would always remain aware of his place and time and time again he'd refuse my offers. And each and every time, he'd reminded me of you. He'd always wanted us to be together and even though I gave him many opportunities, he hadn't taken advantage of any."

Sam decided that it was the truth, because even the one time Dean's defences were down, it was Sam taking advantage of it and not the other way round.

"So please, I beg you, I know that this is breaking the rules on so many levels and it's probably going to embarrass you among your friends, but if you feel the need to punish someone, punish me," he bowed his head down. "I'm the one who took advantage of your hospitality and then betray you like this, no one else is guilty of it, but me."

Castiel slowly took a deep breath and then let it out.

"Look at me, Samuel," he ordered, but it was without any anger or hatred. His voice was just as broken as he must have felt, judging by the broken-hearted look in his eyes. "What makes you think I would want to punish anyone? Do I look like a tyrant to you? Is that why you chose to give your love to someone else? Because you were afraid of me?"

"No, nothing like that, I swear!" Sam hurried with his answer.

Dean and Castiel were so alike it was unbelievable. For example, they both had a gift for blaming themselves for almost anything.

"I...I don't know how or why it happened. I started falling for him even before I met you. There wasn't much you could have done after that. But it was never your fault, I beg you to believe me."

"Can you tell me, who's the lucky one that won your heart then?"

Sam was still pretty certain it wasn't the best idea, but at the same time, he felt like Castiel deserved an honest explanation.

"It's Dean, my lord."

For an instant, he was sure Castiel stopped breathing. Nodding, he stood up then and ringed a bell above his head.

"Send for Dean. He'll be in the tavern. Tell him I need to talk to him," he said to the servant that appeared not too long after that.

Sam wanted to ask him what he needed to talk to Dean about, but he didn't dare to speak up. Castiel was just staring at the night sky full of stars through his window and not saying a word. Sam took the hint and started walking away.

"No, stay here," was all Castiel said.

When Dean finally walked through the door, Sam almost had no fingernails left to chew on. The moment Dean looked at the two men and saw their expressions, a knowing look replaced the confused one.

"You wished to speak to me, Cas?" he said quietly, but kept his eyes glued to the floor.

"Samuel here tells me," Castiel answered without looking away from the window. "That he has to break the rules of the legion and for that he wants me to punish him."

Dean blinked. He was clearly unable to believe that Castiel would ever punish anyone, much less Sam.

"He says he's fallen for you and that is why he won't take me as his partner for life," Castiel added and finally turned around to pierce Dean with his gaze. "He refuses that you had any part in this and claims that the punishment should be his and his alone. Now tell me, my dearest friend," the words seemed to hurt both Castiel and Dean much more than any insult ever could. "Is that true?"

"Cas, I...punishment? I don't...," he shot Sam a disbelieving look and Sam just looked down.

"Just answer my question, Dean," Castiel said softly, sensing his friend's confusion.

Sam's heart ached for the man's pain, because even heartbroken by his best friend, even if it might not be the friend's fault, he would still put comforting him above punishing. All the more reasons for Sam to tell him the truth, so that he would find someone worthy his great heart.

"My lord," Dean kneeled down on one knee. It was the first time Sam had ever heard him use that title to address Castiel. "If there's a punishment for breaking the rules, I am the one to be punished. The boy has done nothing wrong; he was just confused. I saved his life and he mistook the gratitude for love. He woke up in a place full of strangers and he just clung to me. I watched him fall for me and instead of being a man and a friend to you and putting a stop to that, I...I fell for him too."

Sam's heart fluttered at those words. If Castiel decided to kill Sam for this, it couldn't have made him any less happy. Because Dean had just admitted to Castiel, to the _world_, that he loved Sam.

"Oh, I see," Castiel replied and looked away for a brief moment. It was hard not to notice him blinking away his tears. "Well then, all I can do is wish you best in your life together. I release you from your services in the legion, Dean. Go home and take Samuel with you. I'd appreciate it if you set out tomorrow."

Sam didn't blame Castiel for wanting them out of his sight. He believed it was too much for him to lose both the man he loved and the friendship he held dearest at once. But still, seeing the hurt written all over Dean's face at Castiel's words made him want to shout at the man. Sam wanted to shake his shoulders and make him take the words back, because Dean didn't deserve them. It was not his fault.

"I'd rather you kill me," Dean said quietly, not meeting either of the men in the room's eyes.

Sam felt the blood drain from his face and his heart was beating fast, not so much from happiness anymore. It was one thing to be willing to die, but to let _Dean_ be the one to take that sentence? It never even occurred to Sam that would be a possibility. And the time Castiel was taking to reply was freaking Sam out. He wasn't contemplating it, was he?

"You'd rather die than to live with the one you claim you've fallen for?" Castiel asked finally.

"I'd rather die than to be your enemy," Dean said firmly, finally looking up.

Before he met Castiel's gaze though, he shot Sam a look. It was supposed to be a warning, Sam guessed. That his friendship with Castiel would always come first, even before his own life. But Sam couldn't care less about that; admitting his feelings to Castiel had pretty much equalled killing their friendship for the sake of their love. He was just afraid that Castiel might take him up on that offer.

"You'll never be my enemy, dear friend," Castiel forced Dean to stand up and Sam could almost hear the thump of something heavy falling off his chest. "Love is not a sin and should not be treated as such," Castiel squeezed Dean's shoulders before he let go of him. "But you need to understand, that your love has just broken my heart. I'm going to need time, Dean. Please, give me that."

He almost choked on his own tears, but he was still refusing to cry. Sam assumed it wouldn't take long, though. And Dean probably saw it too, because he left the room with a short "I'm sorry," that held so many different meanings, Sam was sure he'd never get them all. He took a few steps to Castiel.

"Thank you..." he tentatively touched his arm.

He was pretty sure the man didn't want him to comfort him, but he had to try. Castiel surprised him, though, once more in the short time, when Castiel grabbed his shoulders and pulled him in to kiss him on the forehead.

"You have to take care of him, Samuel. Dean is a complicated man, but he deserves love like no one else. It's not going to be easy, but you can't give up on him. Should I find out you hurt him in any way, I'd be less forgiving than I am now, understood?"

Sam nodded. Then Castiel smiled at him, even though his tears were just a few beats from falling out of his eyes. Sam felt a cold pinch of guilt for ever thinking badly about the man in front of him.

"I'd give him the same warning, but I know he'd never hurt you. If he's ever going to try, don't believe him. Now go, he needs you more than I do."

Sam didn't need any more encouragement and left Castiel's chambers quickly. He didn't expect to see Dean again that night, but when he found him in his bedroom, he was more than pleasantly surprised. That was until he saw how dark with hurt Dean's eyes were and until he almost threw him against the wall in attempt to push him away, when Sam had tried to hug him.

"Why?" he asked, his voice raw. It was clear that he'd cried, when no one could see him.

"I couldn't marry him. It wasn't fair to anyone. I would never give him what he deserved," Sam said. It was mostly the truth.

"I'm sure _that_ was why you did it," Dean snorted. "You just ruined the best friendship I've ever had and you didn't even think to tell me about it first? I just...how could you be so heartless?"

Dean's anger and choice of words were hurting Sam a little, but he remembered Castiel's words and he also remembered the looks full of love in Dean's eyes when his walls weren't up and decided to hold on to them.

"Did you want me to marry him?" he asked quietly.

Dean didn't answer, but the way the look in his eyes changed was all the confirmation Sam needed.

"I couldn't stand the thought of the chance of ever being with you taken away from me forever," Sam went on and slowly made his steps toward Dean.

"Sam..." Dean warned him, so Sam stopped just a few feet away from him.

"I didn't know what the outcome would be, Dean. I didn't do it to break his heart or to force you to give me yours. But I knew it was the right thing to do," he dared to close the distance and Dean wasn't protesting this time. "Tell me you don't want this, Dean," Sam said, cradling Dean's head in his hands. "Tell me you don't want me and I'll leave you alone. But I don't think you will," he leaned in and whispered against Dean's mouth. "Because you love me. And I love you."

He meant to kiss Dean then, but before he could even move, he was stopped by Dean's hand against his chest.

"You're right...I'm sorry," Dean obviously lost the inner fight he was having with his own feelings. "Let's just not do this here. Please," he looked up at Sam, with wide, vulnerable eyes.

"Okay," Sam understood that making any kind of love induced physical contact with Dean in Castiel's house would be more than rude. "Let's just pack our things and go then."

Dean nodded and helped Sam with his things, without saying another word.

-xXx-

They were on the road about the same time birds started chiming. They were both too tired and emotionally exhausted to talk. Sam was riding a step behind Dean and his lips curled into a smile every time Dean looked over his shoulder to check upon him. As if Sam was to just up and leave now, that he was so close to having all he'd ever wanted.

They stopped by a lake. Dean got off his horse wordlessly and walked along the shore, kicking the stones back into the water. Then he stopped to look at the towers of Haven that were still visible, with such heart-wrecking sadness in his eyes, that Sam couldn't restrain himself any longer and walked behind Dean.

"Where are we going?" he tried to penetrate Dean's thoughts and squeezed his hand gently. Dean let him.

"Winchester," he said without tearing his eyes apart from the horizon.

"Your home?"

"Haven't been there for years," Dean shrugged. "Doesn't really feel like home anymore."

"Does your family live there?"

That finally made Dean look at Sam.

"My parents sent me away to the army, when the plague started to spread. Mom was already sick by then and dad died not too long after her."

Sam's heart clenched. He knew all too well how that felt.

"We can make it our home," he smiled at Dean. "A new beginning, just you and me."

"Just you and me," Dean repeated and raised his hand to cup Sam's cheek. His eyes glistened with unshed tears. "How did I deserve you?" Again with the awe on his face that said that Sam was just too pure for Dean to have.

Sam was just gathering up the courage to lean forward and kiss Dean, when the other man turned away and stepped back.

"I would...understand if you changed your mind," he said to his feet. "If you...if you couldn't trust me after what happened."

Sam blinked. Where the hell did _that_ come from?

"Dean," he said insistently, stepping into the man's personal space. "Do you still remember what I told you about this the first time? You didn't betray anyone. This whole situation is on me, and if you have to blame somebody, blame me. But don't push me away. I love you and I trust you and I will stand by you through everything. Just let me."

With that, he grabbed Dean's face gently and pulled him in for a kiss. Dean was hesitant, but opened his mouth for him eventually and then they just stood there, by a lake, tongues caressing in a promise of love. Sam felt Dean's hands on his lower back and wrapped his arms around his neck. They just kissed. Sam made no moves to progress or pull away; he needed Dean to understand, to _believe_ that he meant every word of what he'd said earlier. And Dean seemed to listen with the rest of his body more easily than with his ears.

It was Dean, who pulled away eventually.

"We should get going," he whispered against Sam's mouth with a smile that told Sam that this wasn't Dean pulling away emotionally, that he just wanted to hit the road.

"Okay, let's go then," Sam replied and pressed a small kiss to the corner of Dean's mouth before he pulled back completely and climbed up on the back of his horse.

-xXx-

When they arrived to Winchester, Dean got off his horse and walked through the town with Sam on his tail, until they stood in front of an Inn called 'The devil's hole'. As if in trance, Dean walked through the door and kept looking around with strangely clouded eyes.

"This is your old house, right?" Sam stood behind him.

Dean nodded.

"But it was just a house back then, no Inn. Smaller. This is nothing like I remember it," he sighed sadly.

"You boys lookin' to spend the night or what?" A strong female voice interrupted them.

They turned around to a woman behind a bar. She wasn't too old, about Dean's age Sam thought, but her face looked older and tired. Probably from the stress of running an Inn.

"I'm sorry," Dean said. "I...I grew up in this house. Well, back then it was smaller. And it wasn't an Inn. But I just wanted to see it. Sorry to be a bother," he said, bowed slightly and started walking away.

Sam was just about the follow him, when the woman stepped away from the bar, wiping her hands in her apron.

"Dean? Is that you?"

Dean turned around, puzzled.

"Oh my god. I'd recognize the eyes everywhere," the woman gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth. "It's me, Marianne. Do you remember me? We used to play as children."

"Dear lord, of course I remember you!" Dean's face lit up completely.

Marianne threw herself in Dean's arms and they both seemed so happy to have found each other. If Sam didn't know better, he would have been jealous. He actually might be, just a little.

Dean and Marianne talked as if they were old friends and not two people that hadn't seen each other since they were kids. She had told them, that her parents bought the house from John, Dean's father, when Mary, his mother, died. She confirmed that John had been already infected and decided to dedicate his time to help the people, who couldn't help themselves anymore, as long as he could. Sam was in tears when she'd finished the story.

Marianne was so happy about the reunion, that she offered them a guestroom and she didn't want any money. They tried to turn her offer down, but she wasn't one to take 'no' for an answer.

"It's nice here. Cosy," Sam said with a smile, once she showed them to their room and left them with a "good night" and a wink.

"It was really nice of Marianne. I was afraid of where we might be spending the night. I didn't want to bring you into something filthy," he lowered his gaze a little, as though he was ashamed.

"Do you ever think of yourself?" Sam hurried to him and lifted his chin. "Anywhere would be fine for me, as long as you are with me," he said honestly.

"I've got you to think of me," Dean smiled shyly and bit his lower lip, as if he was nervous that what he'd just said wasn't true. Sam would never understand how a man like Dean could think so low of himself.

"That's right, you do," he leaned in to brush his lips against Dean gently, pleased to see the other man's mouth following his, as he pulled away. "And right now I think we should go to bed," he smiled seductively, or at least he hoped he did. "Together," he breathed into Dean's ear.

Blush spread over Dean's cheeks and that was all the affirmation Sam needed. He started to work on the laces of Dean's overshirt. Dean just watched him in awe, apparently unable to believe that this was really happening. That they could finally be together.

But Sam had spent too much time yearning this to waste it on bashfulness and slow approach. He kissed Dean hard and deep and slowly Dean got the message and reciprocated in taking off Sam's clothes. Whenever they had to break off their kiss to discard a piece of clothing, their mouths were back in seconds. They just couldn't seem to get enough of kissing each other thoroughly and without the fear of it being wrong.

Once they were stripped down to just their underwear, Sam pushed Dean backwards, until his knees hit the bed and he was falling down, dragging Sam with him. Dean scooted backwards to get on the bed all the way and Sam crawled on the top of him, sliding their naked bodies together, kissing like there was no tomorrow.

"Sam," Dean panted out between the kisses and probably wanted to say more, but Sam was kissing him again, so he pulled on his hair gently to get him to look into Dean's eyes. "I love you, Sam. God, I love you."

It was Sam, who pulled back this time, when they kissed again.

"I love you too," he said and then he flipped them to be under Dean and peered at him from under his hair. "I'm yours. Only yours. I want to be. Make me yours, Dean."

Dean brushed the hair out of Sam's eyes, propping himself up on one elbow.

"Sam, do you mean-" he said in a hushed voice.

"Yes," Sam answered with a smile. "I want you to be the one."

Dean attacked his mouth with even more fierce than Sam thought possible, but he didn't complain the slightest. He let his hands roam freely over Dean's body that was softer than it probably should be, given the battles he'd been in, but it was all muscle. Dean was perfect in every sense of the word.

"You're not that bad either," Dean chuckled and Sam blushed heavily, when he realized that he was voicing his thoughts out loud. "But I was hoping to be able to _stop_ you from thinking."

With that, he kissed his way down Sam's chest and slowly peeled his underwear off. He just let his eyes roam over the naked form of Sam and it was Sam's turn to squirm uncomfortably under the attention.

"You're beautiful," Dean said and Sam thought that he should get used to the awe in his eyes, whenever he got like this. "And I don't mean just your body. Even though that's gorgeous too," he winked.

"You're beautiful too," Sam pulled Dean in and pressed him close. "If I ever had a dream about this, it would be exactly like it is now. With you."

And then he kissed him, nice and slow, to speak the words in the language Dean understood better, too. When their kisses became frantic and it was obvious, that both were ready for more, Dean gently turned Sam on his stomach and undressed from his own underwear.

He bowed down and kissed the nape of Sam's neck, then ghosted his fingers along Sam's spine and stopped, when he reached his buttock.

"You sure?" his voice was a little uncertain.

"Yes," Sam almost shivered with anticipation. "Sure."

Dean circled Sam's hole with his forefinger, getting it to relax a little, before he pushed in. Sam hissed at the intrusion, but it wasn't nearly as bad as he'd feared. Dean was slowly working his finger in and out of Sam's ass and his other hand was massaging his lower back.

When Dean pushed his second finger in, it actually started to burn.

"It's only going to get worse," he said tentatively. "At first, at least. I can stop. Should I stop?"

Sam shook his head. He knew it was going to be painful and he just wanted this too much to care. He tried to ignore the nagging feeling of hurt, when he realized he probably wasn't Dean's first. He'd actually known it all along, but he'd still like to be the one. But at least he could try to be Dean's last.

Dean carefully worked him open and before he positioned himself, he moved upwards, so that his body was flush against Sam's back and threaded their fingers together.

"Scared?" he asked Sam, when he noticed, that he shook a little.

"Excited," Sam shook his head, even though it wasn't entirely the truth. He was a little scared, but he knew that Dean wouldn't want to go through with it, if he'd known. And Sam did.

Slowly, Dean pushed inside Sam, until Sam's broken cry stopped him. Sam was squeezing his hands and his breaths were coming out ragged and short.

"We don't have to do this," Dean said again and Sam had to actually roll his eyes despite the burn that he felt in his rear end.

Dean had apparently seen it, because he loosened the grip he had on Sam's hands, bowed his head and whispered quietly. "I'm so afraid of hurting you."

Sam turned to him as much as the body and their position allowed him to.

"I know. But I trust you. You'll make it good. I can't wait," he smiled, when the light returned into Dean's eyes and turned back again.

The pause had apparently done him some good, because Dean was able to push almost all the way in. It still burned as hell, but as Dean was sliding in and out of him, slowly and carefully, it eventually smoothed and instead of painful hisses, Sam started to moan quietly. He could feel Dean smile against his neck and then he quickened the pace, making Sam growl lower and louder.

Their bodies were sliding against each other easily, thanks to the sweat that was breaking on them. Sam found himself grinding his hips against Dean's thrusts, to make him go as deep as possible, his previous pain forgotten, because there-, yes _right there_ was the spot that-

"God grief, Dean!" Sam shouted, when Dean hit the spot inside of him with full force.

Dean then curled his fingers around Sam's shaft and started stroking it. Once, twice more he'd hit the spot that made Sam cry out and Sam was falling apart; Dean's name the only thing on both his tongue and mind. It took Dean a few more thrusts and then he was biting hard on Sam's shoulder, filling him, making him his and Sam had never felt more like he was in Heaven.

Dean collapsed next to him and Sam rolled on his side to face him.

"Sam..." Dean whispered and reached out his hand to caress his cheek. "Oh, Sam...My Sammy..."

That made Sam's heart swell with such unexpected force, that it brought tears to his eyes and he hugged Dean tightly, even though it was hard to do in the position they were in.

"Do you think...would you...," Dean asked once they pulled away. He was looking down again, a sign that the question would be important. "Would you consider marrying me?"

Sam's heart skipped a beat. He just gaped at Dean with opened mouth and the older man probably mistook it for an answer.

"I mean...obviously not now. It's too soon. But I don't know, someday?" he raised his eyes hopefully. "But if it's not something you want, then it's okay, I don't _need _it, you know, I just thought-"

"Yes," Sam interrupted his nervous ramble, when he finally found his voice again.

"Really?" Dean had relief written all over his face.

"Yes!" Sam kissed Dean. "Of course I'll marry you. God, you know how to make a man speechless," he laughed softly.

Dean didn't say anything, but he was radiating happiness and that was enough for Sam. To know that he could make Dean happy. He turned around, pressed his back against Dean's chest and threw a blanket over them. Dean threaded their fingers and soon he was breathing evenly against Sam's neck.

Sam closed his eyes, dedicating his last thoughts, before the sleep overtook him to Jo. He pictured her up in Heaven with their parents, smiling down at him. Happy for him. Sam was the luckiest man on Earth.

He didn't dream that night. He didn't need to. He was already living his dream.

The End

* * *

**So...what did you think? Should I split the story into more chapters, or is it okay, that it's a bit long? Review me your opinion =3**


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